The Event of the Season
by a blurred someday
Summary: Every guest probably had a net worth in the millions. The girl at his side was a slightly different story but with the same ending. After all, he mused, you can't throw the Neptune wedding of the decade without a few celebrities on your guest list. MaDi
1. Chapter 1

Mr. and Mrs. Gregory Sinclair request the honour

of your presence at the marriage of their daughter

Madison Leigh

To

Grant William Anderson

son of Mr. and Mrs. Michael Anderson

Saturday, the sixteenth of May

Two thousand and fifteen

at three o'clock in the afternoon

Rosemont House

3212 Meridian Avenue

Neptune, California 90909

Reception to follow

Black tie attire

Dick Casablancas really freaking loved weddings. He loved tuxes, he loved open bars, and he loved single female guests, who, in his experience, were always down for a good time. When the engraved and foil-stamped invitation to his ex's big day arrived in the mail, he'd immediately entered the date into his Blackberry calendar and let his staff know he'd be unavailable all that day, and the next. He needed time for both prep and recovery, and he had high hopes for spending the recovery with a bridesmaid. The invitation now lay on the passenger seat of his silver Benz, which he was maneuvering through the foothills of Neptune Heights.

The Rosemont House (which was, in actuality, a mansion famed for its size and luxury) loomed in the distance. It reminded him of the castle he'd visited in Austria, where he'd convinced a Swedish girl to sneak behind the velvet ropes with him, into a room off-limits to guests because someone had been assassinated in there or something. He turned into the mansion's curved driveway, threw the car into park and checked his reflection in the rearview mirror. He adjusted his collar and gave himself a rakish grin. "Let the wild rumpus begin," he said, before sliding out of the convertible and tossing the keys to a jacketed valet.

He jogged up the marble stairs and through the vaulted entrance to the house. Past the door he found a cavernous space decorated with muted pinks and beige, and a table to his right held place cards and arrangements of white roses.

He found the card with his name on it, standing upright in a metal base shaped like a rose. He hoped Madison had had enough sense to put him at a table with other attractive singles. Feeling ridiculously sexy in his tux, he headed straight for the bar and winked at more than one female guest on the way.

"Hey, man," he nodded to the bartender. "Can I get a water in a short glass, with a lime?"

This was a trick he'd picked up after college. You could look like you were drinking without a care in the world, but you were really just hydrating. Then later when you did get a drink you'd be way more levelheaded than everyone else but nobody would think you were a square. The thought of having to call a cab and leaving his Benz here would keep him from going overboard. Plus one time Logan had told him that when he was drunk he acted like Scott Disick from the Kardashians, so that was a major deterrent.

He took a sip of his water and surveyed the room. He had to hand it to Madison: this was a terrific venue for a wedding. The French doors along two of the walls let in the last of the day's sunlight, which cast a glow over the entire room and refracted in the crystals in the floral arrangements. Those doors would be perfect for escaping into the expansive gardens with the lucky lady of his choosing.

He made small talk with the bartender for a few minutes (another trick: getting the person on the other side of the bar on your side, always a worthwhile endeavor) and then leisurely rested an elbow on the bar, scanning the room for prospects without bothering to hide his intent. In college he had thought himself to be in his sexual prime, but now at almost 27 he felt he had really hit his stride when it came to charming the pants (or bridesmaid's dress, whatever) off of women.

A blonde in an inappropriately low-cut dress ogled him back without shame, and he tipped his glass to her. She returned the gesture and he sauntered over to say hello.

"Richard," he said. "You can call me Dick."

"We'll see how the night goes," she said with a playful grin. "I'm Sam. Bride or groom's side?"

Feeling that this was a tricky question to answer, given that he used to nail the bride, he answered instead, "Enough about me. Which side are you on?"

She grinned wickedly and said, "I used to sleep with the groom."

"Well, then," he said, clinking his glass against hers. "This wedding just got interesting."

They sipped their drinks without breaking eye contact. Her green eyes were sphinx-like and lined with black kohl to match her dress, which hugged her body all the way to its floor-length hem. If her irreverent comment were any indication, she could make an entertaining companion for the night. She was looking at him hungrily, and he noticed her eyes lingering a second longer on his platinum cufflinks than on his face. He wasn't too bothered. He took another sip and cast his gaze around the room, which was filled with black tuxes and dresses mostly in shades of pink. His eyes immediately were drawn to the brightest spot of color in the room, and when he saw the face belonging to the violet dress, he choked. Water went up his nose, down the wrong tube, everywhere, because she'd shown up.

She'd actually shown up, and she looked every bit as good as she did in the magazines.

Sam had a hand on his arm and was asking if he was alright. Her concern dissipated when she followed his stare and caught sight of the person across the room.

"Oh my God!" she hissed. "Oh my God, is that who I think it is?"

A noticeable frisson of excitement passed through the room as the guests began to notice the new arrival, but nobody stopped their conversations. All over the room people were subtly angling to get a better look, and Dick rolled his watering eyes as Sam jostled him aside for a clearer view.

He thumped a fist against the middle of his chest, because red-faced and wheezing were two things he didn't want to be when he saw Mac in person for the first time since they'd graduated from Hearst. She had spotted him and was approaching rapidly, moving with the same quick steps her short legs had always taken when they were at school together. He cleared his throat one more time before she was in front of him.

"Hello," she said. There was a bright smile on her face, but Dick suspected she wasn't as comfortable as she was acting; she must have learned a few things from her new crowd.

"Hi," Sam said breathlessly. Mac took in the other woman's plunging neckline and heavy-handed makeup and raised her eyebrows at Dick, lips pressed together to suppress a smirk. He just shrugged and tried to look nonchalant.

"Why does it feel like no time at all has passed?" Mac said.

"Maybe because you're unnaturally well-preserved," he said. "Dipping into the Botox already?"

The girl in the black dress gasped and looked back and forth between them, stunned, but Mac was grinning.

"You're looking pretty fresh yourself," Mac said. "Restylane?"

"Clean living," Dick corrected her, and she laughed out loud, causing him to make an amendment. "Clean-ish living. Drink?"

"You read my mind," she said. They turned as one and headed toward the bar, leaving the blonde with her mouth hanging open.

"Nice girl," Mac commented as they walked. "Your date?"

"Please," Dick said. "Do I bring a bag lunch to a five-star meal?"

"Of course, what was I thinking?" she said with a laugh.

"Search me," Dick said. He cleared his throat. "So can you believe it? Your BFF Madison is a married woman."

"Oh, yeah," Mac deadpanned. "We talk on the phone nightly. Good thing her husband is loaded, because the phone bills are really starting to add up."

"Well your S.O. isn't doing too bad for himself, either," Dick said, but Mac waved a dismissive hand as she accepted a glass of Riesling from the bartender and placed a bill in the tip jar.

They both knew why they were there, and it wasn't because of a close bond with the bride. Dick was there because, no matter how apathetic he and Madison were about each other, he was still important enough in the Neptune scene to merit an invitation. Logan had been invited, too, since he was on the Millionaires Madison Knows list, but he'd thrown his invite in the garbage, where he said it belonged. Either way, Dick would be willing to wager that every guest at the reception who wasn't family had a net worth in the millions. The girl at his side was a slightly different story but with the same ending. After all, he mused, you can't throw the Neptune wedding of the decade without a few celebrities on your guest list.


	2. Chapter 2

Everyone in America knew the story: Late-twentysomething breakout actor slips away from his entourage to spend a day being normal, meets a decidedly non-dramatic, un-Hollywood girl who isn't particularly impressed by his celebrity, and falls head over heels for her. Brady Koles (born Bradley Matthew Koslovik) went on to tell Vanity Fair about how real and down-to-earth his girlfriend Cindy was, and from the moment the issue hit newsstands, Brindy had unquestionably usurped the title of It Couple from every other item in young Hollywood. Dick had followed the magazine stories with fascination; he couldn't go to a drugstore without flipping through every celebrity magazine to see Mac, done up like a doll, on the arm of her very own Ken.

"So, I see the baby bump patrol is going to be disappointed," he said, gesturing to her wine glass.

"You read the tabloids?" Mac said, eyebrow arched.

"Every once in a while," he admitted. "But I think everyone not living under a rock has seen that one picture."

"With the red cardigan," Mac said with a nod. "Yeah, that was a food baby."

"What'd you eat?" Dick said.

"Ah, I was actually smuggling Brady some chalupas. He's got to lose all this weight for his next role in this post-apocalyptic doomsday film, and his nutritionist won't let him near fast food. In retrospect it probably would have been smarter to just carry a bag that day."

Dick laughed and Mac studied him with her own smile on her face.

"Have you seen Madison yet?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Think they're out in the gardens still, taking pictures. I skipped the ceremony. If I want to witness people weeping and talking about endless love, I'll turn to Lifetime or visit Ronnie and Logan."

"I'm surprised you didn't convince Logan to come be your wingman," she said.

"Nah, he won't come near Madison if you paid him to. Believe me, I tried. But as far as other Neptune alums go, I heard Shelly Pomroy's maid of honor. That's about it I think. Poor showing from the class of '06, huh? Funny to think everyone thought they were going to be so much richer and famous by now, and you and me are really the only ones who made the cut."

"Who would have thought?" Mac sipped her wine and took a deep breath. "Well," she said.

Dick interrupted before she could move away. "So why are you here?" he asked.

She frowned, confused. "I thought it was obvious," she said. "I mean, my invitation was already checked 'plus one' when I got it."

The corner of Dick's mouth jerked up in amusement at Madison's transparent motives. "No," he said, "I meant, why did you come? I thought you would have immediately sent your regrets."

"Oh," she said, her cheeks turning a pretty shade of pink. "Well, I was going to, but Madison's mom called me and said she'd really like for me to come."

Dick opened his mouth, eminently confused, but Mac cut him off. "It's a long story, maybe I'll tell you sometime. Anyway, I'll let you mingle. Talk to you later!"

She was halfway across the room before he managed a "Hey!" She didn't turn around, and Dick slumped into the nearest chair, probably wrinkling his tux but not really caring.

Watching her weave through the crowd with those same quick steps, until her long dress swished out of sight, he couldn't help but thinking of the one magazine picture he'd saved of her. In most of the magazine blurbs ("Get shiny hair like Cindy's," or "Cindy's secret to clear skin"), she was perfectly done up, a perpetual smile on her youthful face. The picture he'd kept was a rare entry of her in the candid "Stars: they're just like us!" section, where they photographed celebrities walking their dogs or buying groceries. In it, her usually über-private boyfriend was walking toward his car, newspaper in one hand, the other raised in a half-hearted wave. Mac trailed behind him, her eyes unfocused and a slight, thoughtful frown on her face. Despite her trendy hair ("Should you get heavy bangs like Cindy's?"), she was wearing a t-shirt and an unzipped sweatshirt, and jeans that Dick thought probably dated back to Neptune High. He wasn't sure why he'd torn it out of Us Weekly and invoked the wrath of the convenience store clerk, except that he thought it was one of the only ones he'd seen that actually looked like _her_.

He was roused from his thoughts by the emcee inviting everyone to take their seats for the bridal party's entrance. He found his table and looked around for Mac's purple dress, without any luck. He did see Sam's black-clad figure heading his way, and before she could launch an inquisition he headed for the bathroom, exiting through a side door as the bridal party entered through another with much fanfare.

He took his time in the bathroom, straightening his clothing and making sure his hair looked presentable. It was shorter than he'd kept it in college, and currently brushed to one side for the Businessman and Serious Adult look he'd been sporting lately. He pulled out his phone and texted Logan: "Mac's here. Hollywood's been good to her."

Seconds later, a reply popped up. "V says be nice and have fun and don't get in trouble."

He rolled his eyes and shoved his phone into his jacket pocket. He headed back for the ballroom and stopped short when he saw Mac at the end of the hallway, standing quietly watching the festivities. He studied her carefully. Her hair was loosely curled, something he never would have seen in high school or college. He could see that she stood a little taller now, and although she looked beautiful, she looked older and less naive. When he thought about it though, he was sure the same could be said for him-probably moreso, since she started off more cynical than he did. He sidled over and cleared his throat so he wouldn't startle her.

"She looks happy," he commented, nodding toward the bride, who was dancing with a fair amount of grace with her new husband. Mac nodded.

"You okay?" he said. She nodded again. She looked up and saw him eying the phone in her hand.

"Veronica," she explained. "She always knows the right thing to say."

"She does like to say things," he agreed. She had given him an earful on the topic of his personal life more times than he could count.

"Hey, look!" he said. "Madison's mom. Can't wait to hear her thoughts about her new son. I don't know if you know this, but she's a lady with an opinion. Used to tell me all the time to get my act together. Nicely, of course." He waved at the dark-haired older woman, who smiled and moved toward them.

"What are you doing over here in the shadows?" she asked. "Behaving yourself, I hope."

"Mrs. Sinclair, it's great to see you," he said, leaning in to give her a kiss on the cheek. He smiled at her genuinely as they exchanged pleasantries.

"Working in hotels now, right?" She asked. "Good work if you can get it." She winked, and Dick saw a spark that he couldn't link to his notoriously dead behind-the-eyes ex. Her eyes then slid over to Mac and as he watched, she seemed to light up inside.

"Cindy," she said warmly, and with a surprising amount of emotion. "It's been so long." Dick knew Madison's mom fairly well, and he was not expecting to see her so moved by Mac's celebrity. But when he saw the look on Mac's face, he realized that maybe there was something he was missing.

"I'm so happy to see you," Mac managed. The two women embraced and Dick quietly excused himself to give them time alone. He tried not to observe their interactions. Respecting privacy was another thing Veronica had tried to drill into him, although he still maintained that if she didn't want him to see her underwear she should think of somewhere more creative than her top drawer to keep it.

Back to his bartender friend he went, this time for another glass of water. He tried to distract himself by counting couples consisting of old guys and younger girls, so as not to spy on Mac's conversation, but it was easier said than done.

"Hi, Dick," he heard from his left. He turned to see Lauren Sinclair regarding him with a smile.

"Kiddo," he said. "How are you? God, you got old."

She grinned as though that were a high compliment. "I bribed the tailor to make my dress lower than the other girls'. Like you always said, you get more guys with cleav than with honey."

Dick was torn between laughing and wincing. "You probably shouldn't take most of the stuff I ever said to you to heart."

Lauren laughed. "Don't worry, this isn't an everyday thing. I really just wanted to piss Madison off." They clinked glasses. "Have you seen her yet?"

"Not yet," Dick said. "Thinking I should probably say hello. I've been told it's poor form to come to a party and ignore the host."

"I'll go with you," Lauren offered. "I'd kind of like to see her reaction to you in a tux."

"She's seen me in a tux before," Dick said.

"What, at junior prom?" Lauren said. "Believe me, the effect is somewhat enhanced now."

"Sweet," Dick said appreciatively. "I still think I looked sick at prom though."

Lauren was already on her way to where Madison stood with her husband and two other men, and Dick followed.

"Look who I found," she told her sister.

Dick grinned.. "Madison," he said. "Congrats. You look beautiful."

She was wearing a fluffy ballgown and a stunned look on her face. "Thank you," she said. "You look...grown-up."

He shrugged. "It happens."

"Grant," she said, taking her husband's arm and pulling him forward. "Honey, this is Dick Casablancas. We used to date a million years ago."

"Dick, nice to meet you," said Grant, extending his free arm for a firm handshake. Dick estimated the groom's age to be thirty and his wealth to be considerable. He vaguely remembered hearing that the older man came from a family of jewelers. Madison's sharp intake of breath derailed his thoughts, and he followed her gaze to where Mac was standing, deep in conversation with the bride's mother, a soft smile on her face.

"Oh my God, there she is," Madison said. "Lauren," she snapped. "Why didn't you tell me she was here?" Lauren just shrugged. "Come on," Madison said to the groom, grabbing his arm again and pulling him past other guests wanting to say congratulations to the happy couple.

"Wow," Dick said. He and Lauren exchanged looks and hastened to follow, but they were still a ways back when Madison reached her target.

"Oh my God, hi!" she trilled as she captured Mac in a hug. Dick noticed with amusement that she didn't seem to know whether to call her guest Mac or Cindy. As the one-sided embrace dragged on, Lauren joined the group and stood by her mom, but Dick hung back slightly. The look on Mac's face was painful to see.

He watched from a distance as she carefully extricated herself and forced a smile. "Thank you for having me," she said stiffly.

"Are you kidding? Thank you for coming!" Madison's pageant smile was also painful to see, for different reasons. "But…where's your date?"

"That was subtle, Madison," said Lauren.

"Brady really wanted to be here," Mac started. "But he had a meeting he couldn't get out of."

"Oh, no, that's really too bad," Madison said. "But you know…I bet Brady and Grant would get along really well. We should do something together, all four of us!"

"Oh," Mac said, fidgeting with her bracelet. "Maybe. I mean, we're both pretty busy, so I'd have to—" she cut off when her cell phone rang inside the small clutch in her hand. "Oh," she said again. "I'm so sorry, I thought it was on silent." She dug out her phone and frowned at the screen, biting her lip. "I'm really sorry, I need to take this."

"No problem!" Madison said, leaning forward a little in her eagerness. "Is it Brady?"

"Um, yeah," Mac said with a frown. "Excuse me."

She walked quickly out the nearest set of French doors before they all watched her pick up her phone.

"Hello?" Dick heard in his ear.

"You're welcome," he said, then hung up his phone, just in time to hear Madison's husband comment on Mac's diamond wreath necklace ("Neil Lane, I believe") and Madison reply that Mac was wearing the same dress she'd worn to the SAG awards. He moved over to stand behind her.

"She looks good, huh?" he said.

"Anyone can look good with enough personal stylists," Madison said offhandedly. She turned to Grant. "Do you think she'll take us up on getting together?"

"Don't hold your breath," Dick said.

"Or, do," Lauren said.

Dick chuckled and tweaked Lauren's shoulder as he moved past her. "Always a pleasure, kid."

Disclaimer: I don't own anything, and any comments about celebrities or tabloid magazines are jokes meant in good fun. I hope you enjoy the story, please let me know your thoughts! I love to get feedback.


	3. Chapter 3

He headed for the French doors Mac had exited through and found her just outside waiting for him.

"Thanks," she said. "I was so preoccupied with the logistics of getting here I forgot that at some point I would have to deal with her."

He frowned. "Get in car, turn key, drive here?"

"That would be too easy," she said. "We played a shell game to get me here. Six cars leave at once, paparazzi can't follow them all, we execute some quick turns and voila: I'm free for the day. I'm still impressed that Brady was ever able to sneak away without help."

"I guess you're lucky he's so smart, then, huh?" Dick said, and she just smiled. "Anyway, they're bringing out dinner now. That should keep you safe for a little while, unless Madison decides to forego her spot at the front table so you guys can bond some more."

"Good Lord, I almost wouldn't put it past her," Mac said.

"I know," Dick said, peering in through the doors. "How she ended up that way with such a nice family is beyond me." He turned back to Mac, but she was looking away into the gardens. She pushed some hair off her face and turned to brush by him.

"Come on," she said. "Let's get something to eat. I need some bread or something to soak up this wine, or the next thing I know someone here will be giving Extra an exclusive interview about how I've fallen off the wagon."

At Dick's startled look, she continued. "You don't remember that story? I guess I should be grateful it faded away. Veronica and I went out one night after she and Logan had some big fight and we ended up doing shots. The next day the tabloids reported that Brady was begging me to go to rehab and get help."

Dick shook his head. "You're a better person than I am. I couldn't put up with all that."

She shrugged. "Come on. Food."

Dick's table was occupied by three men who seemed to be good friends, as well as the blonde from earlier and several other women of her ilk. He ended up going to Madison's spinster aunt with a sob story about a girl he liked, and getting her to agree to switch places so he could sit with Mac at her table, which was conveniently located just to the right of the head table.

"Heard from Wallace lately?" he asked her as he chewed a hunk of bread.

She nodded absentmindedly. "Still at the same firm. I'm really glad he stuck with what he loved. I know it was hard for him, but talk about job satisfaction now."

Dick was going to point out that he didn't think Wallace's brand of engineering came easily to many people, when he clued in to the fact that every person at the table was watching them and listening to their conversation. He knew Mac could tell too, and he shifted uncomfortably in his chair.

She gamely tried to get a conversation going.

"How do you know the bride?" she asked the middle-aged man next to her.

"Old family friends," he answered. "Do you like romaction movies? That's romance-action. I have this idea for a screenplay that I think you'd really enjoy."

"Oh?" she said politely. "What's it about?"

"It's about a married couple, and they're both spies, but they don't know that the other is a spy, so the movie is about when they both find out they're married to a spy, and what happens after that."

Mac searched for words for a moment before turning her head and asking Dick out of the corner of her mouth, "Is that _Mr. and Mrs. Smith_?"

"It totally is," he said in his normal voice. "Dude, that's _Mr. and Mrs. Smith_."

"What?" the man bristled. "No, I call it _The Spy I Married_."

"Sorry dude, but I think if you're going to rip off a screenplay you have to at least give it a better name."

"I think it's wonderful that you don't let Hollywood pressure you into losing weight," a woman in a sequined jacket across the table told Mac. "I think of all those girls starving themselves to be beautiful, oh, it's just so sad."

"Okay, I think I'm done," Mac said, pushing back from the table and grabbing her bag. Once standing, she composed herself and addressed the table. "Please excuse me. I need to make a call."

She walked away with her head high.

"Well that was a little rude," said the woman in the sequins.


	4. Chapter 4

After apologizing on Mac's behalf and telling the other guests at the table that her twin had died in a tragic fancy dinner accident ("I mean that's just what I heard," he shrugged), Dick grabbed the bread basket and hurried to catch up with her.

Through the nearest French doors he could see her disappearing into the exquisitely landscaped gardens. He noted the direction she was heading in and then asked his buddy the bartender if he could trouble him for two glasses and something for the road.

A few minutes later, bottle of Reisling tucked under his arm, he found Mac in a labyrinthine garden lit only by hundreds of little white lights strung along the tops of tall hedges. She was at the end of an ivy-covered arbor and he followed her into a clearing lined with stone benches. He put his supplies down on the grass and shoved his hands in his pockets, letting himself watch her for a minute. She was staring at the overflowing flower bed in the center of the clearing. He was loathe to interrupt her, but he realized that if she looked over and saw him he would be labeled for life as a creeper in her eyes.

"I wonder how much Star would give me for this shot," he finally said, using his fingers to frame the scene. "'Cindy Mackenzie pauses to reflect on nature's beauty.'"

She gave him a half-smile, and slumped down onto one of the benches.

"Come on," she said. "You know as well as I do that I'm not worth anything without the big name at my side. I'm only somebody because someone famous decided he liked me."

"You were always somebody," Dick said, grabbing the wine and food and coming to join her on the bench.

She looked at him skeptically as she accepted a glass. "Pretty sure I'm always going to be 'that celebrity's girlfriend,' or, 'that PHAT guy's girlfriend,' or—" she stopped herself and watched the wine spill into her glass. "Well, _you_ know."

She raised the glass in a half-hearted toast and took a healthy sip.

"Did you tell the A-lister about him?" Dick asked.

She shook her head in reply. "It's nobody's business but the people who knew him."

"Amen," he said quietly. He liked that about Mac.

"It's incredible, really," she said. "That his name has been kept out of all of this. I kept waiting to wake up one day and find out Perez had dug up the whole tawdry ordeal, and all the progress I felt like I'd made would be out the window."

"The public has a short memory span," Dick said.

"Yeah. And it's not like we were married. High school dating, there's no record of it other than the notes he used to pass me between classes."

"He wrote you notes?"

"Yeah."

"Can I read them?"

"I'd rather you didn't."

He sighed. "Okay."

They sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, until Dick coughed.

"So how are you paying the bills these days?" he asked. "I mean, I know you, and you wouldn't let your boyfriend pay your way."

"Oh, sweetie," she said. "I'm famous. Everyone thinks they know me."

He laughed loudly, and she settled back against the hedge wall behind her and scratched at her arm. "Well, you're right. He hates it that I won't let him give me money or pay off my loans or anything. But I do a lot of tech consulting jobs, and most of them come in through his connections, so it evens out I guess."

"Well, that's good," Dick said lamely, straining for some more insightful comment but coming up empty. "So, what was so important that he had to miss seeing you look so pretty tonight?" It was a statement he immediately regretted, and when she lifted her head from the hedge (a few stray springs stuck in the back of her hairdo), in his head there was the word "boyfriend" written in neon lights on her forehead.

"First of all," she said, "I know I am not as good at getting myself ready as the team of pros is, so he probably wouldn't have been that impressed. And who knows? He gets a dozen pitches a day. This meeting today could be about Saw XXIV or a live-action Pokémon movie."

"He didn't tell you?" Dick said.

Mac looked at him speculatively, then glanced around the garden and leaned in conspiratorially.

"I'm not supposed to tell anyone this," she said.

"Mum's the word," Dick said, shifting to face her completely. He frowned when she hesitated. "Seriously, Mac, the lip is zipped. What is it?"

She sighed. "We're not actually a couple anymore, so much."

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I broke up with him two months ago and we're not a couple anymore."

Dick blinked. "Wow," he said.

"Yeah," she said. "But it was amicable."

He raised his eyebrows and she smirked.

"I know, that line's older that dirt. But with us it really was. I mean, so much so that sometimes we forget we're broken up, if you know what I mean."

His lip turned up without his permission-he knew exactly what she meant from all the times he'd backslid with Madison, and later with Melinda. She was sipping her wine, unconcerned, and he cast around for something to keep the conversation moving.

"So how'd you keep it quiet?" he finally asked.

Mac shrugged. "I've been staying at his place since I can't exactly go apartment-hunting without people catching on. Plus, he likes being by himself, so there aren't a lot of people around to go running to the magazines that there's trouble in paradise."

"But there wasn't, right?" Dick asked. "I mean, he was never like, bad to you or anything?"

"No," she said, looking appalled. "God, no. He's really a great guy—I think you'd like him. I mean, I _loved_ him. And maybe if our situation was different, I'd be married right now, instead of at the wedding of a girl I hate down to her very core."

Lost in thought, Dick finished his glass and poured himself another. After he'd taken a gulp, he focused on her again. "How long do you have to pretend?" he asked. "I won't see you in a few years driving a convertible with an 'KOLES2' license plate, will I?" he asked, stomach dropping at the very idea of Mac going the way of Lynn Echolls.

"Not very much longer. You know, you'd think, it's over, what does it matter when we tell the world? But his publicist says timing is everything. There's this big premiere in London at the end of the month and I'm supposed to be there on Brady's arm. Honestly I think he's just going along with it so he can prepare himself for the media storm. It's bad now, but I can't even imagine how much worse it will get when the story breaks."

"If you're going to bash a paparazzo car with an umbrella, can you tell me ahead of time so I can be there to see it?"

She bit off a large chunk of a roll. "I'll try to forecast any outbursts so you can bear witness."

"Awesome."

She smiled wearily.

"One more question," he said, and watched her tense. "If you hate Madison so much, why did you come here?"

She stared back at him for a few beats, and he grinned. "I knew it."

"What?"

"You came here because you totally have a thing for me."

His grin only grew wider when she laughed out loud. "Oh my God, you wish! You sleazebag."

When he stopped laughing he raised his glass. "Here's to your emancipation," he said, clinking the glass in her hand.

"Hear, hear," she said.

"Have you thought about who's next on your list?"

"What?"

"You're supposed to move onto another movie star now," he said. "Isn't that the normal pattern?"

Mac leaned back with a sigh. "Actually, I'm really looking forward to being normal again," she said. "Buying books without tabloids dissecting what my purchases say about me, being able to go to the lady-doctor's without being followed by paparazzi, et cetera."

"So you won't be adopting a little kid from Africa?" he said.

"Not anytime soon. I think I'm done with dating in the Hollywood world."

"I hear ya," Dick said. "That's why I won't return Miley Cyrus's phone calls."

Mac laughed before kicking off her heels and making herself comfortable. She held out her empty glass and he refilled it.

"You know what, Dick?" she asked. "I'm having a _really_ good time at this wedding. Are you?"

"Definitely one of the better ones I've been to," he said.

"Why didn't you bring a date?" she asked, pushing herself forward to sit Indian-style for her interrogation. "Do you date? I've been sitting here talking about me me me, and I haven't asked you one question about how things are going for you."

"Yes, I date," he said, feeling offended. "But it's like I told you, I like to keep my options open. What if I'm at a wedding and some famous chick shows up fresh off a breakup? How's a date gonna help me then?"

Mac grinned and him and tilted her head. "I think that scenario is a little different if you met the famous chick when she was exceedingly awkward and antisocial."

He smiled back. "I guess it is."

"How's work?" she said.

"Ah, I like it," he answered honestly. "Never planned on having a job, but it turns out I'm really good at making hotels awesome. I'm making moves to buy a third one now."

"I don't think I'm surprised," she said. "You were always fairly enterprising."

"Plus I lived at the Grand for like forever," he pointed out. "Seemed like a logical career move."

"Totally," she said with a judicious nod. "Do what you know, man."

He couldn't smother his grin at that. He liked hearing her talk like a regular person again.

"Are you laughing at me?" She pushed him with her foot and almost succeeded in unseating him, and they both laughed harder.

"Sorry, dude, I don't mean to," he said. "It's just very funny sitting here with you right now."

"I know," she said mildly. "I keep waiting for Principal Clemens to pop out of the bushes or something." Dick's laughter at that caught him so off-guard that this time he did in fact fall off the bench.

A/N: Sorry for the long delay with this story...these chapters and the ones to come gave me a really hard go of it. I guess this is why I need to go back to my method of finishing a story completely before posting any part of it! Thanks for bearing with me, hope you enjoy.


	5. Chapter 5

Mac cracked her neck, sighed, and stood up to stretch. Wine glass in hand, she walked slowly around the grassy area they were sitting in. They were too far from the house to hear any music, but she was humming softly and swaying to the music in her head, a handful of chiffon in one hand to keep herself from tripping.

Dick watched, not bothering to hide the appreciation on his face as she moved lightly on her feet. He had long since untied his bowtie, and now he tugged it off completely and stuffed it in his pocket.

Her eyes had slid closed and there was a girlish smile on her face. Without conscious thought he was suddenly off the bench and moving toward her, feeling like he couldn't stop himself if he wanted to. His eyes were locked on that smile, and so he saw the moment it faltered. She froze and he stopped in his tracks.

"What?" he said.

Eyes now wide open, she put a finger to her mouth and then he heard what she had: Madison's voice, drawing closer.

"It's just like, a question of common courtesy. Come to my wedding and then completely disappear, who does that? I don't care if I have to track her back to her house, I am getting a picture with her in my wedding dress. Now get the lead out, she's got to be around here somewhere."

Mac looked at Dick with wide, plaintive eyes. He took her wine glass and put it down with just enough care to keep it from shattering. Then he grabbed her hand and ran.

The walls of greenery played tricks on sound in the garden, and he realized a moment too late and with a muffled curse that he had taken her in the wrong direction, right into the path of where Madison was headed, presumably with her photographer. They backtracked quickly, hurtling through the aisles of shrubbery, but Mac's stunning violet dress didn't lend itself to camouflage and in the next moment he heard Madison screeching his name in anger.

He started to slow, knowing they had been seen, but Mac was still running as fast as she could and she dragged him along with her. She looked over her shoulder and he saw what looked like genuine panic on her face, so he picked up with pace again, and together they dashed out onto the open lawn and away from the shouting behind them. He spotted a small side door past where the party was still going on and darted to the left, yanking Mac along and biting out an apology when he heard her yelp.

They flew through the side door, pausing only long enough for Dick to slam it behind them. From there they crashed down a narrow hallway, up a side staircase, and through an open doorway to a room lined entirely with bookshelves. Dick rolled the old wooden double doors shut and turned the latch. He turned to see Mac looking shaken, leaning back against one of the walls of books.

"Is it always like that?" he said.

"No," she said, with a hint of derision. "That was Madison and one other dude. When they're everywhere, swarming your car, asking when you're going to get engaged, if you're pregnant, what you're gonna name the baby…." Her eyes were shut and she was running a hand soothingly over her chest, which, he saw in the dim light, was red and splotchy. "It's just different."

"I don't want you to have to go back to that," he said.

She shrugged her slim shoulders. "It's not forever."

A tasseled lamp in the corner was giving off a weak shaft of light, and Dick watched the dust motes they'd kicked up move through the air. Mac stood out more than ever against the brown and dark green books behind her. Her eyes opened and Dick took another step closer, noticing that her breathing was still uneven.

"You okay?" he asked.

"Yeah," she said. "It's not like I'm not used to it. I just wasn't expecting it—not here. Actually pretty stupid of me, when you think about it."

Dick raised a hand to her shoulder, his thumb tracing a soothing pattern over her skin. Without stopping to think about what he was doing, he let his fingers trail across along her collarbone until their path was halted by her necklace.

"Shiny," he said.

"It's borrowed," she said, voice slightly strangled.

He met her eyes.

"Sorry," she said. "I don't mean to sound ungrateful."

"You never asked for it," Dick said.

She considered him for a moment, before subtly shifting her weight forward, so that his fingers were pressed just a little harder against her skin.

"I missed you, you know," she said. "The way you always told me exactly how you felt about me. Sometimes before an event I'd think, what would Dick say about this dress?"

He stifled a grin at the thought of his influencing her wardrobe choices.

"Isn't that weird?" she continued. "It's not like we were even friends—not really. Acquaintances, maybe, occasionally accomplices, but mostly just indifferent to each other."

Dick felt one corner of his mouth turn up. "I was never really indifferent to you," he said quietly.

Her lips separated a little and her eyes widened. "Really?"

He nodded. "Sorry I never told you that part." He dared to run his thumb over the dewy skin of her cheek. "By the time we graduated I was pretty unindifferent to you."

As he watched, something seemed to switch back on inside of her, as if whatever it was that she had lost after college was returned to her. Eyes locked on his, she blinked twice and leaned forward to press her warm lips against his.

He'd been expecting it— well, hoping for it, anyway, ever since he discovered she was single— but he still stood stunned for a moment after she pulled back. He stared at her face and the two spots of color showing through her makeup high on her cheeks, then leaned in and brushed his mouth against hers. He took his time, peppering short kisses on her soft lips before he let his hands slide around to rest on her back.

He pulled her closer and she let him. Her hands were on his shoulders and her fingers dug in for purchase. He dragged his thumbnail along her spine, causing her to arch into him and break away to take a ragged breath.

"Goddamn," she said.

"Yeah," he agreed. He swooped in to kiss her again, trapping her between his chest and the bookshelf and then sliding his hands over her ribcage and up.

"High school really was a long time ago," she said with a lopsided smile.

He nodded. "I'm sorry for everything."

"You apologized already," she reminded him.

"And don't you wish now you would have let me kiss you?"

She shook her head. "This is better," she said, closing the space between them again.

"Yeah, yeah," he said. "Such a know-it-all, won't even let me get in _one_ 'I told you so.'"

"Dick, be quiet," she murmured, and he obliged.

One of his hands was fisted in the folds of her dress, and the other was anchored to her side. He tried to bunch up the material in his hand, but was having a hard time doing that and continuing to kiss her. He huffed out a breath and whined, "Your dress has way too much material."

She laughed and snuck a hand inside his tuxedo shirt, resting it against his rising and falling chest. "Want to get out of here?"

He blinked, stunned again. "Only of course," he said. "Side door?"

She nodded. "Will you go first and bring the car around?"

"God, you're so Hollywood now," he teased. She swatted his arm and he pecked her on the cheek. He headed for the door, whistling and thinking again about how much he really freaking loved weddings.


	6. Chapter 6

With a dopey smile stuck on his face, Dick drifted in and out of sleep the way he used to in college, the way he usually couldn't now that he was an adult with a real job. Eventually, boredom overcame his sleepiness and he blinked away the gunk in his eyes and looked around.

He smiled to see Mac, to his right, still sleeping with her head shoved underneath a pillow and hidden from view. He let his eyes roam over her naked back and the way her ribcage contracted and expanded with each breath, and he couldn't stop himself from cantering his fingernails up her spine. She jerked and her head popped out from underneath the pillow, her hair sticking straight up on one side.

"Remind me to send Madison a fruit basket or something," he said with a grin, reaching over to run his fingers through her hair. Somehow he only succeeded in making it look more ridiculous.

"Good God," she said, pushing his hand away in order to stretch languidly. "This bed is made of clouds."

"Nothing but the best," he agreed.

"So you live here, Mr. Monopoly?"

"No," he said. "I just keep this room set up for whenever I need it."

Her eyebrows shot up and she huffed out a laugh. "Oh, really?"

"For business, gutter-mind," he said with a snort. "After meetings and stuff. And anyway I have a house, but that would have taken way too long to get to last night."

"Okay, well, good thinking then," she said. The twenty-minute drive to the hotel had felt excruciatingly long to them both. "I have to say this is not how I expected my morning to go. I was thinking I'd hit the gym and maybe meet Veronica for brunch."

"So, a workout and food? We're in a hotel, we can cross both those off your to-do list without even leaving the bed!" Dick smirked at what he felt was an incredibly clever response, but she just rolled her eyes, shifting onto her side to face him and making no attempt to cover herself.

"That was really bad."

"Well if you would just turn your brain off every once in a while or lower your standards a little bit, that line totally would have worked."

"I didn't say it didn't," Mac said as she leaned in for a quick kiss before hopping out of bed and shivering a little. "Call room service if you're hungry. I have to check my phone. It's been on silent for the better part of 12 hours, who knows what I missed." Dick laced his fingers together behind his head and watched with a satisfied grin on his face as she dug through her bag. "Aha!" she said, holding it up and hurrying back over to dive under the comforter again.

"Why check your phone?" he said, running his hands over her sides. "The best days are the ones you turn it off."

"Yeah, but I was texting Veronica updates last night," Mac said. She bit her lip and shifted her weight so she could get a little closer to him. "She probably started to get worried when they stopped altogether."

"I guess," Dick said. "But she could have called me. She knows I have your number and I could have tracked you down."

"Hey," she said suddenly. "How did you get my new number anyway? I had to change it when I started dating Brady, and Max sold my old one to some fansite."

"That guy was a scumbag," Dick said, his hand now coming up to run over her shoulder possessively. "I got it after that from Veronica. She likes to update my phone with numbers she says I might need if I ever get into trouble. People I can trust, et cetera. I've got Weevil's too."

Mac laughed out loud. "Shut up, really? Have you ever called him?"

"One time, by mistake. I was trying to order from the Mexican place down the street and the conversation deteriorated quickly."

She was shaking with laughter and he couldn't help but join in. "It's not funny! I don't know what I have to do to convince that girl I'm totally an upstanding citizen now."

"Ever the mother hen," Mac said, finally calming down. "Interesting that she doesn't do that to me."

"You never needed that kind of help," he said. "And you should take comfort that she never downloaded a bunch of those drunk dial preventer apps to your phone."

That set Mac off again, and she buried her face in her pillow.

"I'm serious!" Dick said. "I have to do math when I want to call someone late at night now."

"Because God forbid you have to remember how to multiply!" Mac choked out before returning to the pillow, almost crying now with laughter.

"Yeah, very funny, but you know if it weren't for those apps I probably would have called you a long time ago, so, you know, thank Veronica for keeping you away from all this," he said, gesturing broadly to his chest and lower.

"You would have, really?" Mac asked, emerging with keen interest.

"Probably, yeah," he said with a shrug.

"The things you learn when you go home with someone after a wedding," she mused, rolling so that she was half on top of him, phone lying forgotten somewhere near her knees. His arms were around her in a flash, and just as quickly he flipped them and had her pressed into the mattress. He was licking a path from her collarbone to her earlobe when there came a knock on the door from someone who would be fired shortly. He ignored the sound and went back to work, but the knocking continued.

"Mr. Casablancas?" they heard a voice call, faintly.

"Terrible timing, dude!" Dick called back. "Seriously, do not disturb!"

"Mr. Casablancas, I'm very sorry but I have an urgent matter to discuss with you and your guest."

Underneath him, Mac froze. He stared down at her, blankly at first, and then with widening eyes as he realized no one should have known she was there.

She managed to roll out from underneath him and raced for the bathroom, reappearing a second later in a bathrobe and tossing him a second, larger robe.

"Get the door," she said in an even voice.

Dick nodded and struggled to tie his robe securely on his way out of the bedroom and into the living room. He swung open the door to see his head of PR. "Sir," the man said. "I'm sorry for the intrusion, but we've gotten a few troubling phone calls."

"Calls about what?" Mac said, suddenly at his shoulder.

"The press discerned that you were here, ma'am," the man answered, respectfully keeping his eyes trained somewhere near her hairline.

"Just that I'm here?" she said shakily.

"They have been insinuating that the two of you came here together," he answered, keeping his voice and his face neutral despite the fact that the two of them were standing in front of him in matching fluffy robes.

"Thank you, Tom," Dick said, as Mac left his side and disappeared back into the room. "I'll call down in a few to get more detail about the calls and to discuss how to handle any others that come in. I assume you haven't given any statements?"

"None whatsoever."

"Good. Thank you."

He shut the door and turned to Mac. "What the hell is going on?" he said. She was sitting on the couch by the window with his computer in her lap and a hand over her mouth.

"What?" he said urgently, and she turned the computer so he could see the screen.

He felt his eyebrows shoot up and his jaw drop, and all he could say was "Oh."

He pried the computer out of her hands and stared more closely at the picture of them.

They were running, hand in hand, Mac's purple dress flowing out behind them. It was a blurry photo, and taken from a distance, but Mac's head was turned so that she was easily recognizable. The headline in bold read "Cindy Mackenzie's Wild Night," and below that, "Pictures surface of Brady Koles' girlfriend with mystery man." There was a link urging readers to learn more, and Mac clicked it.

She skimmed it, reading key phrases aloud. "'Attended the wedding of close friend, Neptune socialite Madison Sinclair Anderson,' well I guess we know who provided the background here. 'Seen running with an unidentified male companion, looking thoroughly debauched.'" She turned to Dick, horror on her face.

"_Debauched?_"

"That could mean lots of things," he tried to tell her, but she was returning to the article.

"'With what appear to be leaves stuck in her unkempt hair.' I was leaning against a hedge!"

"Okay," he said, pulling the laptop from her. "Let's take a minute to breathe."

"This is...this is a nightmare. I didn't even...how could I not have known this was coming? I didn't think about how it looked...God..." She slammed the laptop shut. "Why didn't I just take a stupid picture with Madison? Would that have been so hard?"

Dick could hear the edge of tears in her voice and was at a complete loss, especially since her running from Madison had been as much his fault as it was hers.

"Mackie," he said, pulling her attention from the carpet, where her wide eyes were fixed. "It'll be okay. I don't know what's going to happen, but it's not the end of the world."

"I don't think you understand how devoted his fans are," she said. "I got death threats just for being with him, can you imagine what's going to happen now that I've cheated on him?"

"But you didn't!" he burst out.

"They're going to crucify me," she said softly, letting her head fall into her hands. A minute later her head popped up again. "My phone. Where did I put it, did you see?"

He jogged into the bedroom and crawled over to retrieve the phone from the rumpled sheets. When he brought it back to her, she punched in the code on the screen, stared for a second, then looked up at him with a trembling lower lip. "I have 22 missed calls. And about a million emails and texts."

Dick put his arm around her and drew her in close to him.

"I have to call Brady," she said.

"Okay," he said. "But do me a favor. Let's make a pot of coffee, calm down a bit, then you call him."

She stared at him for a moment, then nodded. "You're right. I'm going to take a shower. I can't face this with last night still all over me. Can you brew the coffee?"

When she'd locked herself in the bathroom, he looked again at the online article. He scrolled down. The comments section was a bloodbath. Mac was being torn apart, with words Dick would hesitate to even say out loud. He shut the computer and got up to make the coffee.

When she emerged from the bathroom ten minutes later, her skin was scrubbed pink and her face was furrowed. He was waiting at the table with coffee and bagels from the fridge. She picked up the coffee but ignored the bagel.

"I'm going to send my legal team so hard after people," he said. He put a multigrain bagel in front of her and took a bite of his own.

"They didn't even name you," she said.

"They will soon though probably, if we've got calls from the press coming in. Obviously someone recognized me."

"I've got to call Brady," she said, grabbing his computer. "But if some other bomb has dropped in the past ten minutes, I want to know before I call." The page loaded, and her mouth tightened into a thin line.

"Well now there's a picture of my shoes lying in the grass," she told him. "Along with a wicked clever caption calling me 'Cindy-rella.' I liked those," she said with a pout.

"I'll buy you a new pair," Dick said, and she gave him a small smile, which he returned.

She stood up and retrieved her phone from where she'd thrown it on the couch, staring at it and then returning her gaze to Dick. He stood too and drew her into his arms. "It will blow over," he said. "And then you and me, we'll drop off the radar for a while. Get gone, into the great wide open. Pretty soon, all people will remember is that they wanted to get bangs like that super cute girl that used to date that guy, what was her name again?"

For a moment Dick worried he was making assumptions he shouldn't be, reading too much into the one night they spent together, but Mac tightened her arms around his middle and squeezed him hard. "Okay," she said into his collarbone. "It's a plan."

"Good," he said. "Plus, no offense, but I don't think he's going to have a hard time finding someone new."

"Definitely not," Mac said, turning her head so it rested against his shoulder. "Dakota Fanning has had her eye on him for a while, anyway."

He ran his hand over her hair and pulled back to see her face. She looked up at him resignedly and removed herself from his arms. She hit the third speed dial key, then hesitated before pressing speakerphone. She held Dick's gaze while the phone rang, but turned away slightly when a man's voice said hello.

"Hey, Brade," Mac said softly.

"Cin," the voice said, sounding sad and only slightly reproachful.

"I'm sorry," Mac said. "I didn't mean to."

"It's okay," Brady said. "I mean, I'm not thrilled, but it's okay, Cin. Don't freak out, okay?"

"That's three okays in fifteen seconds," Mac said.

"That is just how okay it is," came the reply. "So, this unidentified man..."

"We went to school together," Mac supplied. "And Madison kindly decided to hold that information back to try to make the story look as unseemly as possible."

"So it's not unseemly?"

Mac glanced at Dick and his bedhead. "Well...it's not 100% seemly. Like 80% seemly."

They heard another voice in the background and Brady greeting the new arrival.

"David's here," Brady said. "I'm going to put you on speakerphone, alright?"

"Yeah," Mac said. "Hi David."

"This is not what I had in mind for my weekend, Cindy," the new voice said, and Mac winced. "I have a plan," the voice, David, continued, "and it's that we throw you under the bus. I'm sorry, but that's the way to go here. We say you Stewarted Brady, he's heartbroken, and everyone loves him more than ever."

"I'm not okay with that plan," they heard Brady say, and Dick felt himself relax a little. "We have to go with honesty," Mac's ex continued. "We just say Cindy and I decided not to date anymore, but we were trying to hold onto our privacy through the roughest part. She didn't do anything wrong."

Dick could see some of the tension leaving Mac's shoulders.

"I vote for that plan," Mac said. "And I was thinking that the two of us could go somewhere tomorrow and just hang out and have fun so that people could see we really are friends still."

"Meet you at the zoo?"

"By the penguins," Mac said with a soft smile. Dick felt a pang of jealousy shoot through him, which he quickly squashed.

"Why do I even bother with you two?" said the publicist.

"You're getting paid to bother with us," Brady said, and they heard a sigh.

"Fine. I'll write up the statement."

After the sounds of the older man leaving, Mac and Dick heard Brady shuffling some papers and breathing out heavily.

"Are you going to be able to stay under the radar for the next few days?"

At Mac's questioning look, Dick spoke up, "My staff is secure. No one will go to the press."

"Can't go anywhere anyway, until I get some new shoes," Mac said. Dick thought he heard Brady laugh.

"Alright, Cin, I'll let you go. See you tomorrow around one? Try not to get debauched again before then."

"Shut up," Mac said affectionately. "See you then."

* * *

><p>Epilogue<p>

Brady gave one exclusive post-scandal interview. "I've always loved Cindy" was the pullout quote the magazine ran in big, bold letters, followed by, in much smaller type, "But she didn't choose this life and it was unfair of me to hold her to it for so long." He went on to quote the Tom Petty song "Wildflowers" and said Cindy belonged somewhere she could feel free. He ended by looking to the future, and putting a positive spin on the whole thing: he could use their split to prepare for his next role, in the Tom Petty biopic _Free Falling_, in theaters Labor Day 2016.

It was about a 50-50 split between fans who believed that he and Mac had broken up when they said they did, and fans who thought the whole thing was just a PR spin to avoid it looking like he'd been cuckolded. Fansites dissected Mac and Brady's activities for the months prior to the wedding, gathering evidence for both theories. Dick was highly offended to find out that for the most part the fans agreed that Mac stepped down a few rungs on the ladder of attractiveness by going from Brady to Dick. Mac made fun of him for it but got her comeuppance when she found out some pictures of them from college had surfaced, with the general consensus being that she wasn't pretty enough to have landed either one of them back then. "Whatever," Dick finally summarized. "We're both hot and together we're a hot-ass couple."

The talk began to die down after a while, and Mac and Dick successfully stayed out of the public eye. When they finally got a chance to get out of California for a while, it was almost a year later, and as they were settling into their seats on the plane, a woman stopped in the aisle to ask Mac if she had seen her somewhere before.

"I don't think so," Mac said with a smile. "Just have one of those faces."

"I guess that's it. Sorry to bother you!"

Mac and Dick high-fived and ordered mimosas. All was well. And if there were any lingering doubts about whether they broke Brady Koles' heart, those doubts were put to rest at their wedding, when Brady stood up next to Logan and across from Veronica, beaming and cheering along with the rest of the bridal party when Dick kissed his wife.

* * *

><p>AN: Here is the long (long, long) awaited finale of this story. I have to confess I struggled with this part, a lot. The feel of it is so far from what I wanted this story to be, and I ended up letting it sit for months, then changing about 80% of it last night between the hours of 10 p.m. and 3 a.m., so I can't swear that all of it will make sense. Anyway, if you stuck with this story, I really appreciate it, and I truly hope you get some enjoyment out of it.


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